


Different, like you

by anonfoxer



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonfoxer/pseuds/anonfoxer
Summary: The tale of self discovery featuring a trans girl who's still figuring herself out and a demon meant to kill her.Trans Female/FemaleUse of trans friendly terminology for genitalia.Fandomless original work.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this story is very self-inserty as I have struggled to find erotica that I like/that doesn't trigger dysphoria for me.  
> This may still trigger dysphoria for some readers, this is not my intention and I am very sorry if it does.
> 
> This is an original work, and is not bound to any fandom.
> 
> This is my first major public writing release.
> 
> Any and all comments/criticism is appreciated.
> 
> There is some weird pacing in this, it is all on purpose.
> 
> This is still a WIP as of September 24, 2020. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Brizeli was never very good at her job. Succubi were meant to sleep with and drain as many people as they could, night after night, reap their souls and energy, and move on. Brizeli was always one to be too kind. From the countless men she let live, to the 13 women she nearly fell in love with. One could say it was torture for her, having to sleep around and never being able to pursue whoever she may have fallen for, and having to be the person to lead countless others on. And it would be, if that sort of thing bothered her.

  
Brizeli’s torture came from the overwhelming knowledge that she had to end lives. That was something she could never bring herself to do. She never wanted to hurt people. She didn’t like people being hurt. This, consequently, leads to a lot of not dead people begging for her back and leaving some poor sap with 10 missed calls the next week, and with 5 new contacts in their phone. It also meant that she was regularly picking the most lonely of people to cheer up, even if just for a night. It’s a vicious cycle, wanting to be a helping hand.

  
It was a night like any other for her. She spent the time floating in space above the nearest neighborhood in a body “borrowed” for the week, seeing who, in the dead of night, looked the worst off. For once, it was quiet out. No loners walking home looking bereft, no people in hoodies tagging walls and not even one girl looking afraid on her way home. 

  
What there was however, was a light from a basement window. Hell, take what you can get I guess. As Brizeli made her way over, the source seemed to match most of the checkboxes: Empty aluminum cans, check. Rainbow, glowing letter tablets in which only 4 spaces ever seemed to get used, check. Giant screens with colorful characters running about casting spells (with rather poor form, she always noted), check. The only thing that seemed off was the person in the chair.

  
They looked...Well, she couldn’t tell. Their hair was long, deep brown and messy, with rivers of it flowing down their back and falling down either side of the person’s face. Their face was rounded, soft, and had marks of where that thing humans called make up once was in the day. Further down, tightened around their neck was a black strip of fabric, a deep black cloth tied and left to form a triangle down their shirt. Their glasses kept falling down, no matter how many times they scrunch their nose to bring them back up. Topping it all off, a bit of jewelry with beads of light blue, pink, white, in a repeating pattern. 

  
This was not the normal type of person Brizeli was accustomed to seeing in situations like this. Where normally there would be a heavyset, hairy man sitting in this chair, this time it was a fairly fit, skinny person, with no hair to be seen anywhere. And as far as whether they were a boy or a girl, Brizeli was stumped. Their scent screamed that of a pent up, sexually frustrated teenage boy, but their appearance was that of the girl that would be teasing that poor boy to oblivion, eventually breaking said poor boy's heart.

  
But all other boxes were checked. Their hands blazed away, clicking here and there as their eyes darted around the screen, and there was no way they owned this home. The only thing they could arguably own was the magic box producing the images and the desk it was sitting on. Standard affair, really, even if this specimen was a bit different. 

  
Brizeli made her way inside, materializing in the room as the human finally started to prepare for bed. When the human layed eyes on her, they jumped, clutching their chest as they scooted away in their chair.

  
“Who the hell and why the hell,” they asked, after finally getting their breath back.

  
“Does it really matter,” Brizeli murmured, taking a seat on the bed, “I’m only here to give you a good time, sweetheart.”

  
“I mean I won’t deny but…Wait, are you one of those sex demon things?”

  
For the first time in several thousand years, Brizeli was impressed. 

  
“How could you tell?”

  
“...Why else would a pretty lady manifest in my bedroom?”

  
Holding back her laughter, the succubus inched forwards, pressing her arms closer to pop her bust a bit. Considering the first sign of her unusual kindness was already showing, she went all in. 

  
“I’m Brizeli.. You can call me whatever you like,” She cooed.

  
“Rachel,” said the human.

  
“Rachel? Thats a funny name for such a strong looking young boy,” Brizeli said with a suggestive laugh. Which is what made the sudden fist slam far more unexpected. 

  
Rachel was already in tears. She bent over her desk, head in her hands with hair in tight fists ready to be pulled out. As she sobbed, the guilt hit the demon like a satanic bitch slap. But she struggled to see what she did wrong. She relied on that line all the time, it worked. It made these losers feel better, powerful. So why is this human now weeping hysterically? 

  
` Brizeli hated seeing people be hurt. She knew she had done something wrong, didn’t know what it was, and now the scene looked like a comedy show with a sexy lady sitting on a bed, ready to fuck, while someone else cries in the same room. And so, at a loss for words and with a lack of understanding, she opted to stay silent.

  
“Even the fucking supernatural can’t get it right,” Rachel finally managed after minutes of heart aching sobbing. She wiped her eyes, staring at the succubus with an expression that seemed fed up with anything and everything the world had to offer, spitting, “I am not a ‘young man.’ I am a girl. A. Girl.”

  
As tears fell and boiled away mid cheek, Brizeli felt her own heart pang in her chest.

  
“I... but…Rachel, forgive me, but your scent your...Aura, it’s….You smell like a teenage boy that hasn’t seen a vagina in years.”

  
“I know what I appear to be to you!” Rachel shouted, choking down a sob.

  
Taking a minute to compose herself, Rachel took a deep breath, and stared down the eyes of a body that had been taken over by lord knows what. 

  
“I know you can probably smell or taste or see or whatever is in my pants. But I am a girl. Now please, get off of my bed, get out of my home, and don’t come back.”

  
“But I have questions,” Brizeli protested.

  
Rachel gave in, throwing her arms up as she spun around in her chair. After grabbing a bottle of water, she turned around, running her arm under her nose as she sniffled.

  
“Fine.”

  
“Is your being called Rachel...Is that why you look like this?”

  
“...Like what?”

  
“Well most people I’ve met like you have been very...Large and hairy and reek like Satan’s finest.”

  
That got a small chuckle, if one could call it that out of Rachel, as she took a sip of water.

  
“Neckbeards. Yes, then, that’s why I look like this,” Rachel said.

  
“Were you afraid of looking like one of those neck…beards…?”

  
“That’s part of it, I guess you could say.”

  
Brizeli went silent for a moment. The pieces started to click together, and it started to make sense, she hoped.

  
“Did you not like being a boy?”

  
Rachel’s eyes froze, and a smile tore through her grimace.

  
“Something that kids my age take months to start to get a succubus understands better in the course of two questions and maybe...six minutes,” she said with a laugh, “I guess I was a bit harsh to judge the supernatural. Yes, that’s exactly it, in the shortest terms possible. It didn’t feel like I was me.”

  
For what may have been the first time in the history of everything, in a small home in the middle of suburbia, in the basement of a girl who just wanted to be called the right thing, a demon felt an emotional connection to a human being stronger than anything they had ever felt before. And while they may not have known why, she did know two things: One, that she didn’t need to be seeing anyone else for energy, and two, that there was not going to be an easy way to say goodbye to Rachel.


	2. Chapter II

“You did what?!”

  
The booming voice of Brizeli’s overseer echoed through the caverns of Hell, sending crumbling rocks tumbling to the ground. Some say that the anger felt by her lord that day was so great that it caused an earthquake to occur in England, presumably ruining the day of a granny.

Ooparek was used to the bullshit that Brizeli pulled. From extended months with a victim, near marriages being canceled with the sudden death of the groom, to multiple, multiple orgies, with about 5 previous victims, only for them to all die at once. This, however, was unheard of even for her.

“You didn’t sleep with her?!”

  
Even in the case of succubi being thrown off as Brizeli had been, the most basic requirement of her job was rather simple: sleep with your victim on the night you meet. For most other succubi, this would be the only night. But Brizeli was just special, wasn’t she?

The demon looked sheepishly at the ground below as her overseer scolded her. For some reason, she didn’t expect it to be this bad. It’s not like she forgot the only rule of her job.

  
“Sir, she cried-”

  
“She cried, she damn well should have been after your sorry performance! What difference does it make that she cried, you are a demon!”

  
“I know Sir, but-”

  
“But what? You’re in hell, tears are par for the course! I don’t give a damn if she was split open at the guts and begging for her mother, you sleep with her!”

  
Brizeli had to fight back a quip. She may not have been good at her job, but she was quick on the draw. Most of the time anyways.

  
“You Are on Thin Fucking Ice, Brizeli,” Ooparek growled, “You should be grateful that Satan is being generous.”

  
“I understand, Sir,” Brizeli said.

  
“Because if choices were up to me, you would be sent to the seventh ring.”

  
“Yes, Sir.”

  
With a deep, aggravated sigh, Ooparek put his fingers to his temples.

  
“You are getting one more chance, Brizeli. I want this girl taken care of. We will discuss this more, later,” he said, voice trailing off into a mumble, “Now get to your quarters.”

  
Brizeli bowed, making her way off to her living space with gusto. She would have tonight to prepare before going back, and seeing this through. Find Rachel, sleep with her, kill her off quick so she can be done with this whole ordeal and move on. To someone who's easier to stop thinking about.

  
As whatever sense of time there was in Hell passed, Brizeli couldn’t rest. She layed on her stone slab, fingertips pressed to a point at her lips as she gazed up to the cave ceiling. The events of the previous night replayed over, and over again. Of course, her heart beat a painful beat every time she saw Rachel cry. But it wasn’t that which had her so focused. She could get over making someone cry, even if the guilt felt like an anvil on her chest.

  
No, what she couldn’t get out of her head was the smile. The smile that she had caused, through that pain. Of course, she had made losers like this girl smile before. Say the right things in the right way, flash a genital at the right time, and you’ll see men being giddy like they just got a puppy for the holidays. But her smile was different. It felt…

  
Real.

  
Really, really real.

  
The way that something so simple could break through pain that crippling. The way it shone through tears and choked gasps. All from some simple words and understanding. It was a genuine kind of thing that Brizeli hadn’t quite yet experienced. If only she could just stop thinking about it.


	3. Chapter III

There wasn’t much rest for Brizeli for the next few days.

  
But she still had a job to do. So the routine was repeated. Waiting until the darkest hours of the night, finding the basement window, and making her way inside. She never understood how these humans could stay awake this late, clicking away at something so mindless and confusing. But if it made them happy, which for Rachel it certainly seemed to.

  
Until she spoke. Every time she spoke, she frowned. And every once and awhile, she threw the large cups off of her head from her ears, biting her lip to fight back tears while continuing to click away. Sometimes after ordeals like this she would pump a fist in victory, donning the cups again to shout at seemingly nothing but a puffy ball in front of her mouth. Other times, she would simply stop the flashing lights, and move on to some other flashing lights, fighting back something and trying not to focus on it.

  
Tonight was one of those nights.

  
Seeing the girl be this upset, Brizeli decided it was time to pop in again.

  
“Jesus fucking H. Christ, you could give me some form of warning, couldn’t you?” Rachel whined, scooting forwards in her chair once her breath had come back to her.

  
“Sorry, force of habit,” Brizeli said, giggling in the least playful manner she could muster.

  
“I guess it is nice to see you, I was getting a bit worried.”

  
“Worried…? About me? Wh…”

  
“Nothing, nevermind that. Why are you here tonight?”

  
Brizeli cleared her throat, adjusting her shirt collar.

  
“I just had a few questions. Like why do you shout at your light tablets so often?”

  
It took Rachel a few seconds to connect the dots, taking a sidelong glance at her monitors.

  
“That…? It’s...Really hard to explain now that I think about it.”

Brizeli huffed. “Can you try?” She asked.

  
“Will you understand?” Rachel shot back.

  
“I can try.”

  
I It was more than others would do, Rachel thought. She spun about in her chair for a moment, contemplating with her eyes on the ceiling above her. Eventually she caught herself with the corner of her desk, sighing to herself. She had the opportunity for someone to at least listen. That was worth it.

  
“Sometimes when you...Don’t sound like a girl on here people will call you things that hurt.”

  
“...There are people in there?”

  
“Sure. And sometimes you have to shout back at those people when you’ve showed them that you’re better than them.”

  
Was she really better than them? Sure, they may have hurt her but shouting doesn’t really make one much better than your aggressors. Nor do comments about their mothers and how often you fuck them. Brizeli seemed to have the same idea, as she cocked her head to the side.

  
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to be quiet?”

  
Rachel sighed, nodding her head. Brizeli took a long look at the girl in front of her. Something about her just made her think a bit harder than she would’ve liked, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint the 13 different things that may be the cause. All she knew was that Rachel felt different. Different from the countless other people she had slept with, different from the girls she swooned for, different from the men she had laid with for a week and ditched.

  
Something that made her dread the fact that her job was killing her.

  
“I see,” she said after a long, comfortable silence.

  
Rachel was already turned back to face her computer screen, turning it back on, and launching a different game.

  
“Why do you spend so much time with this thing?” Brizeli asked.

  
“Because it’s fun. Sure, sometimes I get angry, but more often than not video games are fun,” Rachel explained, beginning to zone out as the game started.

  
Brizeli stood up, slowly striding over to stand behind Rachel, snaking her arms underneath Rachel’s to wrap them around her waist. The moment her arms made contact Rachel jumped in her seat. Another box checked: jumpy to contact from the lack of it. Laughing it off, Brizeli pressed her cleavage to the back of Rachel’s head.

  
“Isn’t playing with someone like me more fun?” She purred, dropping to Rachel’s ear.

  
Rachel held her breath, looking dead on.

  
“It would be if you weren’t hiding who you truly are, too.”  



	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time there's a bit of sexually charged contact. Rachel shell breaks pretty hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time there's a bit of sexually charged contact. Rachel shell breaks pretty hard.
> 
> This is pretty self insert-y as I had said.
> 
> As this project has gone on this has also turned into a way for me to process a lot of self discovery, this is where that begins to show.

Brizeli froze. That did more than just catch her off guard. While the demon took a few moments to contemplate the various parts of her existence, Rachel removed Brizeli’s hands from her body, zoning back into her game. Brizeli was left wondering how that got spun onto her, yet again. Not to mention what it meant. That was until she looked back down. Her bodies were always borrowed. It put some people at ease, and it fooled the gullible. Plus it kept her identity protected. All the missed calls after she had to leave would be the worry of some poor girl who would wake up with a newfound reputation for being a bit of an easy lay. 

Without a word, she left the way she came in, slipping her way through the basement window. She went around a corner, out of sight, and took a deep breath. The basement window creaked, and Rachel turned around. She was met with a fairly short demon, who was holding its own shoulders.

Brizeli was short, but that was to be expected of demons. Her skin was a deep gun metal grey, but soft and matte. A pair of black wings sprouted from her back, tucked behind her for the sake of dignity. White, pointy horns poked through a mess of dark hair, complimenting the several black horns that rode around her collarbone. A forked tail hooked its way around one of her legs. She had a modest bust, one that Rachel was guessing to be a larger B cup. 

Her body was average. There were stretch marks. Her stomach wasn’t exactly flat, and her hips had love handles. Her ass was round enough to encourage a smack or two, but wasn’t screaming ‘I stole this from a pornstar’. Rachel smiled, setting her headphones off to the side of her desk.

“Thank you,” she said, eyes almost twinkling as she looked Brizeli over.

“You’re smiling.”

“I know I am. This makes me happy.”

“Why does it make you happy?” Brizeli asked.

“Because like this we’re both being our true selves.”

Brizeli smiled back. She stopped holding her shoulders and moved her tail, spreading her feet apart. Her nipples were already hard, basements tend to be a bit cold. There was a distinct glimmer between her legs, and she held her arms behind her back as she finally threw a wink.

“So now, do you want to play with me?”

For the first time in the recent weeks, the small amount of confidence Rachel had been radiating, the aura of knowing what she was talking about, wavered. She grinned, a goofy, sheepish, slightly horny grin, as she started to grow flush in the face. Instead of words, she nodded, slowly, standing from her chair only to be tackled to her bed.

Rachel looked up to meet Brizeli’s gaze, her breath quickly growing heavy as the demon gently asserted herself atop her. Brizeli’s fingers carefully rested on either side of Rachel’s waist, and Brizeli smiled as she held her hips off of the girl's body. It seemed the playful chase onto the bed was as adventurous as she was willing to be right now, because Brizeli may not be good at doing her job by the book, but she could read people.

Rachel was trembling.

“Take a deep breath, ok?”

Rachel nods, slowly breathing in and letting her breath out even slower, taking her hands and resting them on Brizeli’s waist.

“Is it ok if I touch you?”

Rachel froze again. She had a thousand yard stare as she locked eyes with Brizeli, as something pinged in the back of her mind. That ping came back with nothing. Rachel bit her lip, as she nodded again.

“M-Mhm…!” Was her affirming sound of choice.

“Where is it ok for me to touch?” Brizeli asked.

Another ping. Nothing. Am I tearing up?

“A-A-Anywhere…” Rachel said, breathlessly.

Brizeli smiled a comforting smile, tilting Rachel’s chin to meet hers. A hand slowly moved from Rachels side to press against her exposed midriff. Rachel gasped, hands immediately jumping from Brizeli’s waist to her back and behind her neck. Turns out the girl was a bit more sensitive than she had thought. The hand slowly trailed up underneath the hoodie and the shirt, going to where a small breast had been developing for a few months, and moved its way back down.

The way Rachel convulsed gave away every single hint that she liked this. How long it had been since something like this had happened was a nothing to her. She just couldn’t remember. She felt a finger graze a nipple and the noises she made were soft, weak. When the fingers came back to give her nipple a pinch she arched and whined, another gasp slipping out.

She choked back a sob, and Brizeli immediately stopped. Another choke.

“Is everything ok, did I go too far?”

“N-N-No! N-No, you’re...Y-Y-You’re f-fine…!” Rachel tried, tried her hardest to get it out, and by the time she had gotten to the end she was sobbing.

As soft shushes and gentle hands made their way around her body it only heaved more, cries of years of emotions pouring out at once into the demon’s shoulder. Taking advantage of Rachel’s cries stopping while she tried to regain her composure, Brizeli cupped her cheek in a hand, wiping away a waterfall.

“What’s wrong darling?” Brizeli asked.

It took Rachel three tries before she could actually form the words right.

“Y-Y-You’re b-be-being so n-nice…!” She bawled.

“A-Am I...A-Am I being too nice? D-Do you want me to be more aggressive?” Brizeli asked, helping the girl to sit up a little straighter.

Rachel shook her head, and in the pitiful voice that comes when one strains themselves to speak through heartbreak, she whined, “I c-can’t remember wh-when someone c-cared this m-much…”

“Oh, darling…” Brizeli said softly, bringing the girl in as close as she could. She may not have been good at her job, but she could help the hurt.

After several more minutes of crying, gentle shushing, and several minutes spent playing with Rachel’s hair, she had finally calmed down. Her face was entirely stained with tears, and every other breath was a pitiful sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“What could you be sorry for?” Brizeli asked, picking her chin up to look at her in the eyes.

Rachel’s eyes fell anyways, as she sighed. “For being this way.”

“Rachel, you don’t have to be sorry for being you.”

“But being me means that I breakdo-”

A finger placed over Rachel’s lips politely interrupted her as Brizeli smiled, planting the kindest, and most passionate of kisses directly on them. It was a few moments before Rachel kissed back, new tears welling up and making their way down her cheeks and falling onto her bed. Brizeli pulled away after she had felt she had made enough of a point, and she wiped away the streaks that added to the stains on Rachel’s face.

“You’re you. That’s not an offense to anyone. So you have no need to be sorry,” Brizeli said.

“...You promise?” Rachel asked, almost childishly, without even noticing.

“I promise darling,” Brizeli smiled, but it didn’t take long for Ooparek’s words to make their way to her mind again, and so she asked. “Do you want to keep going? Or do you want to take a break?”

“I want to take a break, please.” Rachel said, her voice growing calmer.

Brizeli felt what Rachel was feeling even if she didn’t notice. She moved herself off of the girl, and moved the blankets on Rachel’s bed around to be clear of tear puddles, and she gently leaned Rachel into her, before she got the hint and melted into her side. She decided that Ooparek could wait.

“Then let’s you and I get to sleep, alright?” She said, in a way that made it clear that she wasn’t going to take no, but she wasn’t going to be mean about it.

“Okay, Brizeli...Thank you.”  
Brizeli slept well that night.


	5. Chapter V

Brizeli was used to these types of people sleeping in late.

When she woke up, she was astounded that she had been beaten to the sun. The little light that did make its way into the room from the high up, skinny windows landed directly in the face of where Rachel had been laying the previous night. Now that Brizeli looked a bit closer, that side of the bed was particularly well slept in. One could make a metaphor out of that.

Looking over to her left, she saw Rachel perusing her closet. She took watch of her for a bit, noticing how her closet was filled with more than just plain looking cloth. There were plenty of things that seemed plenty feminine, in a very distinct style: Black. Lots of black. Exposed midriffs, oversized shirts and hoodies, striped sleeves, even pleated skirts and tight black jeans. Any human looking at this closet would probably label it the dream of a late 2000’s emo kid.

But it wasn’t the style of the attire that really caught her eye (although, she did enjoy it herself). It was how each time Rachel came across something like that she looked at it, hard. A look of longing, desire, a sad smile cracking her otherwise emotionless, early morning bleh. And how she would hold these clothes, close, studying them like long lost friends. Before promptly sighing, putting them back, and moving onto the next.

“Why don’t you put those on?” Brizeli asked, sending Rachel a couple of feet up. 

Once Rachel had her breath back, she mumbled something about being too quiet, before looking at the nude demon in her bed.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“Those clothes. They look pretty. They look feminine. Why don’t you wear them?”

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, with the end result being nothing coming out. She tried again, this time raising a finger. Still nothing. She looked behind her instead, back into the closet. She took a step back, and internally asked herself the same thing.

“I don’t know,” she said finally.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I love them. I love them, buying them made me happy. I love seeing them on...On other people more I guess.”

Brizeli rose up from the bed, standing by Rachels side, saying, “But, I’m sure you look good in these too.”

“I don’t. I really...Don’t.”

“Well, how can you tell?” Brizeli asked.

Again, Rachel found herself blanking. She started to think back, years ago, to her last girlfriend. Now that she really thought about it, that was probably the last time she wore any of this stuff, at least a couple of months before they broke up. She remembered how her girlfriend had told her how pretty she was, how much she liked seeing her waist in some lacey shirt that clung to her neck. 

She also remembered when her girlfriend started saying it less. And how she started wearing the clothes less. She remembered when she wore them one day, her girlfriend had said nothing. Then the stone broke the camels back a few months later, and not long after they broke up. She remembered why she doesn’t wear these things anymore.

“...Because no one tells me I look pretty in them,” Rachel whispered.

Brizeli looked up to Rachel, who turned her face away and to the floor. Taking her hand was all it took for Rachel to start shaking again, the sound of tears falling from her cheeks and landing on the floor filling the silence.

“I can’t believe myself when I say I’m pretty,” Rachel sighed after a while, “Whenever I say I’m pretty all I see are the ways that…that I’m not.”  
Brizeli reached a hand up, gently taking guide of Rachel’s chin to turn her head. She walked Rachel over to her bed and set her down, sitting beside her. Rachel let her head be turned, but kept her eyes firmly planted at the ground, tears streaming down her face as she blinked them away. A hand reached out to wipe them away, and Rachel screwed her eyes shut.

“You have me here. Can you put them on for me?” Brizeli asked, resting a hand on Rachel’s.

Gentle touches in just the right places did have their ways of calming her down. As the sniffles died away, and the ducts in her eyes dried up for the time being, Rachel just breathed. Slowly in, slowly out. She was thinking. Thinking of how this demon probably won’t be around much longer. Thinking about how aren’t succubi meant to kill people? Thinking about what exactly she has to lose from trying this with someone who cares this much.

Rachel stands up, making her way over to her closet. The first thing she does is toss Brizeli a sweater and some panties from a drawer. She hadn’t forgotten that she was nude. And just as Brizeli was about to ask her why she still wasn’t putting on what she wanted, Rachel had her shirt and hoodie off. Her bra was plain, but it supported a growing A cup.

Rachel grabbed an oversized red and black shirt, that hung well below her hips, a set of tights with little cats on them. She grabbed a pair of black shorts that couldn’t have been longer than the length of her hands. As she grabbed a few other things, Brizeli who was now at least partially clothed, erupted with giddy applause. Rachel cracked a smile that got bigger and bigger, and she eventually made her way into the bathroom at the other end of the room, taking a small black case with her inside.

When she emerged, she was dressed like the poster child of a magazine who just recently did an interview with My Chemical Romance. The shirt barely clung to her shoulders, revealing the lace undershirt and bra combo that shrouded her neck and collarbone in black. Her shorts were basically only there to prevent people spying on her from below, as her tights were the only thing that made it past the bottom of the distressed shirt. Her skin really showed just how little sun she got, and the make up.

Oh, the makeup.

The girl had both straightened her hair and messed it up with tasteful frizz and messy toussels that obscured her eyes almost entirely, gel holding it up where it needed and letting it fall around her where she didn’t mind. Beneath her hair was rings of black eyeshadow around each eye, the combined effect creating an illusion of her hair being even thicker than it really was, obscuring more than it really did.

Her upper lip sported a jet black lip gloss, giving her a slight pouty look. Topping the look off was the piles of necklaces around her, sporting various symbols, not the least of which being an upside down cross, as well as a chain of skulls, ying-yangs, and pentagrams that crossed the bridge of her nose and accented her face, dangling by ear studs that weren’t in place when she went into the bathroom. The cherry on top, though, was how shyly she held herself.

Brizeli stared, mouth agape in a smile, cupping her cheek in pure awe. Speechless, increasingly flustered awe. Was she in love? She was probably in love. That was an issue she’d handle later. For now, she just took in the sight before her.

“You’re absolutely stunning…” She said, almost breathless.

“Stop, I don’t want the makeup to run,” Rachel giggled, starting to cover her face.

That really got Brizeli to squeal. Before Rachel knew it, she was being spun around in a tight hug from a demon that barely hit the 4’ mark at a glance. As she got her footing back, Rachel put her arms around Brizeli carefully. While her eyes may have been absolutely shrouded from the world, she was most definitely beaming. She could feel some weight of some sorts being raised from her shoulders, or maybe more accurately a shackle being broken from her ankles.

“Do you want to head out for a bit?” Brizeli offers.

Rachel stiffens a bit. Going outside dressed like this? She wanted to. Oh she wanted to. But that was something that was just very hard. Even in the past she barely managed to make it out of the house like this once. It’s one thing to know you're safe with someone who truly believes that you look beautiful. People outside tend to be less trustworthy. Less predictable. While the fear of being attacked for it wasn’t at the forefront of her mind, it was certainly there.

Should I stop while I’m ahead? She thinks, glancing down at herself.

“Maybe….M-Maybe some other day.”

Brizeli smiles, sitting Rachel down on her bed so they’re at relatively the same height.

“That’s ok. I’m ok with savouring this for myself for longer,” she says, a sincere smile across her face.

Rachel couldn’t remember the last time she was kissed like this. Kissing a demon certainly wasn’t something she remembered either (although some of her friends would argue otherwise). It wasn’t much. Brizeli pressed her lips to Rachel’s in a sweet, passionate move. She went no further than that, leaving surprisingly soft and...sweet lips resting on Rachel’s.

Rachel eventually placed a hand behind her, falling back a bit and making a small noise from her throat. Brizeli moved her tongue as little as possible. Just enough to graze Rachel. And she opened up like a superstore on Black Friday, her arms trembling just a tad as she felt Brizeli’s forked tongue brush into hers, and wow that noise was a lot louder than before.

Brizeli carefully moved herself forwards, letting Rachel scoot back so that they were both comfortably on the bed. Rachel tentatively raised a hand, finding it being placed behind Brizeli’s neck. Then her other hand. Before she knew it she was being straddled by a demon who was making out with her in the best of ways. 

A hand moved to the hem of Rachel’s shirt, resting on her waist for a moment. Rachel made an affirmative noise in between kisses, giving Brizeli the go ahead to send a hand exploring up under her shirt. She traced Rachel’s curves with her palms, trailing from her hips, up her waist, following her bra to the center of her chest, and back down. Each pass got a slightly more desperate whine from Rachel, and before the girl knew it her legs were locked around Brizeli’s back.

After a few very, very passionate minutes, Brizeli stopped, pressing a hand to Rachel’s chest and leaving her to be whiny and unsatisfied. But, regardless, Rachel smiled again, causing the demon to respond in turn. It was a small thing, but smiles go a long way. And even if it’s small, or temporary, relieving some of the hurt for Rachel right now is all she wanted to do.

That didn’t mean she disliked teasing.

“I think we ought to stop for now. We wouldn’t want your makeup to run, right gorgeous?” Brizeli purred.

“N-No,” Rachel said.

It was simple, but it made Rachel feel butterflies. The course of the last twenty- twenty minutes? The course of the last twenty minutes had brought out a lot of feelings that Rachel didn’t remember. Feelings that made her smile, and made her feel small. Made her feel safe. Every compliment, how Brizeli touched her in just the right ways, how...pretty she felt.

She took a glance over at her mirror.

Rachel was used to seeing nothing but “what if”’s in her mirror. When she looked, she saw herself. She saw herself. She saw a pretty girl, with style that could kill, being straddled by a pretty girl. She was a pretty girl. She was seeing herself. She turned back to Brizeli, who was already beaming down at her with a sense of adoration that was simply indescribable with words alone.

“I’m gorgeous,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lovingly written to the tunes of my chemical romance, breaking benjamin, simple plan, and code: pandorum


	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking is for nerds, so instead lets just have lots of internal processing.

It had been two days. Two days since Rachel had called herself anything beyond average in the last seven odd years. And here she was, dolled up the same as she had been as she was those two days ago. She was stood behind her front door, Brizeli inside of a borrowed body by her side, and Rachel was shaking.

“I’m scared,” she said.

Brizeli took Rachel’s hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. As Rachel squeezed back she took a deep breath. She looked at herself one more time, and really, really studied herself. Each detail she could see brought a little tingle to her spine. Each thing about her made her smile more and more. It was just enough of a high to get her to stop freaking out long enough to put her foot out of the door.

Her foot was out the door. Head held high, she stepped outside. Another step, out to her sidewalk. Another step, her smile was getting bigger. It took her until the end of her walk to realize that Brizeli was watching her from the front step, beaming like an idiot. Rachel, turned back out to face the empty streets. Something inside her fluttered. A feeling that had been missing for years. She felt like herself. The way the clothes on her body hugged her neck, how they hung from her shoulders, how they blurred her shape. How the fact that they were just so loud and screamed to the world a massive ‘Fuck you, I am who I am.’ She is who she is. She’s Rachel, and for the first time in seven years she really felt that. She believed her body, and her body believed her. The high from the mirror was nothing like this. She spun in place, feeling the breeze kiss every part of her, tickling her face and snaking its way around her legs. Without realizing it, she had struck a pose, facing Brizeli, who was a flustered mess by this point.

Brizeli walked up to her, taking her hands again. The smile she bore on her face was all that Rachel needed to see to pull Brizeli into a bone crushing hug. Brizeli could feel the love, the actual love that poured from this girl in everything she did, and this was no exception. It took someone truly special to get the heart of a demon this warmed up. Brizeli eventually was let go of her cuddly prison, and allowed to speak.

“Let’s go to the….The green place. The green place with all the people and trees. whatever you people call them,” she encouraged.

“You mean a park?” Rachel laughed.

“You knew what I meant, now let's go!”

Rachel agreed, the high she was feeling overpowering any fear she may have had. As they walked, hand in hand, Rachel was lost in thought. Why would she fear being seen like this? Isn’t the whole point of everything she had been doing for years? The hormone pills, the clothes shopping, the makeup tutorials? It was to be seen as Rachel, right? Because this was definitely Rachel, and she was one to be seen, if Brizeli staring at her through the whole walk didn’t give her a clear idea of that to begin with.

It was a thought she would have to save for later, because as they walked down the central boulevard of the local park, Rachel breathed, letting her shoulders fall. She put her head onto Brizeli’s, something she could take advantage of at the moment. She felt safe, truly, undoubtedly safe. On the list of things she hadn’t felt for a long time, this was one of those things.

Maybe this is what the end result of everything was. Maybe it was to be just two pretty girls walking through the park and not caring. That seemed like it made plenty of sense. The idea settled into Rachel’s brain. It was going to be a while until she could advance this to the pretty girl walking confidently down the street on her own, but this was a step in the right direction. She had all the time in the world to get there, anyways.

Unfortunately, time has the rather annoying property of flying past you at mach 10 at the best times in life. It wasn’t long before the sun was starting to kiss the horizon, jolting Rachel’s brain into the realization that they had been there since noon. And had probably spent the last few hours walking well over a few miles, in circles, in total silence. Was that weird? ...Oh who cares.

By the time they got back to Rachel’s home, they had said their goodbyes, consisting of a hug, a goodbye, a kiss, another goodbye, another hug, and another kiss...They weren’t the quickest goodbyes. Rachel was eventually alone in her room, despite that, laying on her bed and staring at her ceiling. ‘Who needs to go out?’ she thought. Who needed to go out to dress like this when it felt so good? Maybe it was about time she stopped making excuses, and started being truer to her heart. 

And maybe it was time she got some sleep.

She didn’t bother changing clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lovingly written to the tunes of ray volpe and illenium


	7. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The impact you may have on someone is astounding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays <3  
> I originally planned to have this completed by Christmas Day, but oh well.  
> This is a short chapter, but I felt it needn't be much longer.
> 
> To all a good day!

Given Brizeli’s extensive track record of partners that she strung out far, far too long, it was normal of her to get rather lucky with getting extensions on her ‘due dates’ so to speak. Her bullshit was normal enough that people were used to giving her an extra week or so to get someone killed off, if not another month. Record still stands at 2 years, 4 months, and 132 days. But constantly delaying an intake of souls, when others could reap in hundreds in a night, was not just inefficient, it was frustrating.

Brizeli met Rachel at the start of the previous week. It was now Sunday, the week after. She had until Friday. For the first time in memory, Brizeli was properly heartbroken. The door to her quarters was slammed firmly shut, locks set wherever possible, as she collapsed onto her stone bed and began to cry. She had never had this much trouble finishing something like this. Even in the cases where she had spent far, far longer with someone, it was all too easy for her to take their life at the end of it all and move on. Connections were never made, and she was a good enough actor to trick someone into believing they were loved for long enough for her to do what she needed to do.

But Rachel? Rachel. How could anyone even think of hurting someone like that? Was it even possible? It clearly wasn’t possible for her, and that was the issue. She had to say goodbye to Rachel, permanently, and it had to be soon. No amount of begging could get her a bit of extra time. She wasn’t exactly sure what happened if a succubus failed their job, but she really, really didn’t want to find out.

So she cried. She cried, for what felt like hours, until her chest hurt, bones ached, and eyes were dryer than Satan’s fiery taint. She thought to herself. About whether she could risk pushing the deadline. About what happens to succubi that fail. About if her pushing her deadline would hurt Rachel in the end. The thought drove an auger into her gut, and she nearly threw up then and there. Eventually, even her brain was too worn out to carry on like this, and she collapsed onto the stone. It wasn’t fair to call what she did that night sleeping, because that would be an insult to the concept.

In a suburban house in the middle of nowhere, the lights in a basement bedroom flickered on for the first time in many years. No computer peripherals blasted rainbow lights into the dark, Rachel’s smile was glowing bright enough. She and her friends sat down, and shared stories. Fizzy, sugary drinks were passed around, games played with dice and funny story telling, and by midnight hugs had been shared, laughs had filled the room and gone, and Rachel had gone to bed before three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Blue - Cathrine Feeny


End file.
